Marry Me
by quinnovative
Summary: It was only supposed to be a fun evening. But Skye majorly overestimated FitzSimmons' ability to hold their alcohol. Ever since the incident with the med pod and ocean, they've been a little weird about water, so it's a bit peculiar that Fitz accidently, sort of, kind of proposes to Jemma on an island. He'd blame it on Skye, but he's not really upset about the whole situation.


FitzSimmons had always been a thing, once they finally united at the academy, they were a pair. Unofficially official in every sense of the phrase. A hurricane, blatantly obvious to all surrounding beings, but in the eye of the storm, those two were embarrassingly oblivious. At least for a while, until one thing led to another and Fitz couldn't keep ignoring the fluttering in his stomach when he looked at her. And Simmons couldn't suppress the sparks she felt, manifesting into a flame, burning wild and powerful every time she thought of Fitz. There was something in the way her fingers and nose felt all tingly when they talked, and the way she clouded his thoughts persistently. Then, there was the med pod at the bottom of the ocean and the conversation that eventually— _eventually_ —followed.

It was banter flooded with smiles and lingering looks, accidental brushes; touches of fingers and shoulders; skin to skin that sent electricity coursing through their veins. It was harmonized bodies and lives. It was moving in circles, too timid to act but too enamored to step back. It was riddles and hiding and wishing and wanting. It was a mountain and a valley. It was longing and quarreling. It was addictive. It was a steady slow burn. It was painful and beautiful. It was falling in love with your best friend.

Fitz wanted to tell Simmons how he felt. He needed to. The words were piling up inside, threatening to bubble over and combust— he'd been feeling this way for months, years really. Since the very first moment he saw her.

But each time he tried to tell her, the words got stuck in his throat or someone else walked into the room; and just like that, the courage he'd gathered dissipated, leaving him to mumble an excuse before fleeing the room. Honestly, it happened so often that the rest of the team was at a loss for words. How could two scientists work for a spy agency and be _this_ bad at reading each other?

Skye, especially, was appalled that FitzSimmons still hadn't gotten together. For two geniuses, they were being kind of stupid about the whole situation. So, she _might_ have organized something, but frankly she'd never expected the outcome to be as good as it had been.

FitzSimmons were milling around the lounge, waiting for Skye. The plane was landed to refuel and undergo a maintenance check, giving the team a night off. They'd be back in the air by morning. With a bit of help from Bobbi, Skye had planned an evening for herself and the science twins, taking a ferry to an island and hanging out for a few hours before heading back to the Bus.

"Hey, Skye," Simmons said as she heard footsteps. "Ready to go?"

She looked up, taking in the image of a tired Skye. "I think I'm going to sit this one out, guys. I'm not feeling great," she said, throwing in a cough for good measure.

Immediately, Simmons jumped up, brows furrowed in concern. "Would you like me to take a look at you? I could probably get some medicine."

The scientist's concern made Skye feel a little guilty, but she was doing this for them. They'd definitely thank her later. Not that they'd ever find out she was faking. "No, no, I'll be fine. It's probably just a cold or something. I'll sleep for a bit and when I wake up I'll be good as new."

Simmons looked at Fitz then back at Skye. "Maybe we should stay… I feel bad leaving when you're ill."

"No, it's okay. You guys go, it'll be fun. I had an awesome day planned. You two enjoy it," she said with a smile, gently shooing them off the couch and toward the exit.

"Are you sure?" Fitz asked, sending her a worried glance.

"Yeah, of course. Let me know how it goes."

"All right, thanks, Skye. Feel better," Simmons said over her shoulder as she made her way down the ramp.

"Feel better," Fitz parroted.

"Be back before midnight," May called to the pair as they disappeared, two synchronized 'okays' following back response. The older woman turned to Skye with a raised brow. "Sick? That's what you came up with? Simmons is a doctor."

Skye shrugged, turning to leave the hallway as May rolled her eyes, suppressing a smirk. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

….

Fitz and Simmons stood on the starboard side of the ferry, leaning over the rails slightly as they neared their destination. Simmons let out a soft giggle as the wind whipped forcefully around them. "Fitz," she laughed, "my hair keeps getting in my face." She struggled to gather it in her fingers before another gust sent it flying.

"We can go inside if you want?" Fitz said.

"No, it's fine, not unless you want to. I think it's kind of nice out here," she said. "I feel like it's been ages since we've been outside just the two of us."

"Yeah." A soft smile fell across Fitz's lips. At first, the idea of being so close to the ocean made him feel nervous, residue arising from the traumatic incident more than two years ago. Sometimes he still felt so shaken. But he was getting better, physically and emotionally things were starting to look bright. Being with Simmons eased that anxiety, replacing it with a sweeter, softer kind of nervousness. The kind that made his hands clammy and his stomach hurt in the best of ways.

As they pulled into port, the ferry jerked forward, sending Jemma stumbling into Fitz. An apology was on her lips as she looked up, the words dwindling to a halt as she realized just how close they were. Then warm, hazel eyes met piercing blue and every cell in her body ached wonderfully with their proximity. So close their noses were mere centimeters apart and the world ceased to exist for a few seconds as they stood, ignorant to their surroundings, captivated by the thoughts and sentiments swirling in their heads. The words so close to breaking free.

The very moment Fitz was regaining his senses and trying to say what he needed, the captain's voice crackled over the intercom, severing their moment. Reality rushed in, sending them both jerking backwards. Jumping away in a flurry of blush and adverted glances.

….

Skye had texted Simmons the plans for the evening, where the hacker had apparently premade reservations… Reservations that included a suspicious amount of alcohol. At least it seemed suspicious at first. Now, after two— _or was it just one long wine tasting in multiple locations?_ Simmons thought, the memories blurring together—wine tastings, nothing seemed particularly suspicious under the scrutiny of their clouded judgement.

The sun was setting, casting a gold luminosity over the small shops dotting the cobblestone streets. Fiery oranges and reds colored the sky, stark against the silhouettes of surrounding mountains and boats

"Skye planned a really, really great day," Fitz said as they exited the small Italian restaurant they'd eaten dinner (and drunken more wine) at, most of the time spent trying to ignore the surge of love buzzing in their hearts.

"The best," Simmons said as she followed him onto the sidewalk, somewhere along the way she'd attached herself to his side. As she wrapped an arm around his, she looked up at him, eyes sparkling in a combination of adoration and intoxication. Fitz was having a difficult time pretending that the settling sun wasn't lighting up gilded specks in her eyes, giving them a warm glimmer, a magnetic gaze that he never wanted to break. "It really has been quite lovely," she mused, her head falling against his shoulder as they walked, with relatively impressive stability for their state, around the small town, alit by yellow streetlights and a pearly moon as the sun finally dipped beneath the horizon.

"Let's go in there."

Jemma stopped walked and gently tugged Fitz into a used bookstore. As they entered, a small bell jangled against the door, the rattle echoed through the building. Every side of the structure wore bookshelves like wall paper, leathery spines so abundant that it was nearly impossible to see the faded burgundy paint.

Before Fitz could take everything in, Simmons had pulled him into a small corner. The musty scent of yellowed pages pervaded the air as the biochemist sank to the ground, pulling the engineer with her. Kneeling in front of the shelf, she pulled out a large leather book and settled it between their laps.

Instantly, he was taken back to hours spent in the library together during their academy days. Back to a time when the world was a place to explore rather than a threat to navigate. Sitting here, on the dusty, old floor of an ancient bookstore, that feeling of wonder and curiosity fluttered back into Fitz. His eyes drifted to Simmons just as she was cracking open the book.

The pages were alive with colored maps of the world and specific regions. Colorful hues leapt forward, sketches of foreign locations and exotic lands. They spent the better part of two hours flipping through the pages, fuzzy brains enamored with thoughts of distant places and new people. They gasped at each new picture, standing up only when the owner began closing up the shop and saw them in the corner, pouring over the pages, too deeply captivated to notice anything else. She smiled at them, finding something relatable in their closeness and enthusiasm.

"We have to purchase this book," Simmons said as she stretched, eyes still focused on Fitz. "That way, when we have time off we can travel the world."

"That's part of our job description already, Jemma," Fitz said, a laugh bubbling from his lips.

"We have to," she repeated, before turning to the store owner. "I'll buy this book, and then we'll get out of your way. Sorry, for staying so long, we didn't realize how late it became."

The old woman chuckled. "It's no problem. You two seem to be enjoying yourself, it's refreshing. Go ahead and take the book, no charge," she said, smiling kindly.

"Oh, no—"

"—We couldn't," Fitz finished.

Their synchronization brought a smile to the woman's face. "You'd be doing me a favor, really. It's an old book, been here for years just collecting dust. It's too big and bulky for anyone to want it, but you guys seem to appreciate it. Go ahead, it's all yours."

"Are you sure?" Simmons asked.

"Yeah." The owner nodded encouragingly.

After a few minutes of back and forth, FitzSimmons agreed to take the book. But while Fitz maintained conversation, Simmons stealthily snuck away and left money on the counter with a smiley face note when the owner wasn't looking… _ha, and Skye says we aren't rebels_ , Simmons thought, the idea bringing on more laughter.

As they were leaving the bookstore, Jemma turned around and just _had to_ give the owner a hug, overwhelmed by the generous gesture (and alcohol, but she was in no state to admit it).

"It's getting chilly," Simmons said, giggling as she tightened her grip around his fingers, swinging their arms as they made their way down the street without a real destination in mind.

"Let's get ice cream!" Fitz exclaimed, dragging his best friend into the small store on the street corner.

"Fitz," Jemma laughed, "It's too cold…"

"Never too cold for ice cream," he stated, as she stumbled into a seat while he ordered their ice cream in the quiet shop.

"Nothing closes here…" Simmons mumbled incredulously.

Fitz appeared moments later, a cone in each hand. Things were going well, until Simmons' faulty coordination had resulted in vanilla ice cream and rainbow sprinkles smudged across her nose. Fitz had leaned forward to wipe it off, napkin against the cute, little nose he loved so much, when suddenly, she sat up.

"Fitz! What time is it?"

There was something May had said about time earlier… midnight…and the ferry left every hour, so they needed to catch the eleven o'clock ride. His stomach flipped when he checked his watch. "11:56."

Simmons' eyes dramatically widened, her movements exaggerated and chaotic as she stood up, nearly tripping over her chair. "We have to go! We won't be too late if we catch the midnight ferry."

Their ice creams were abandoned in a trashcan outside the shop as they took off, speeding through the surprisingly populated streets as best they could with hazy dexterity and the heavy feeling in their limbs, while they tried to recall the route they'd taken hours ago. As they made their way around a corner, the water finally coming into view, their hands bumped together, warm skin touching in a way more intoxicating than any amount of wine. Fitz took Jemma's hand, appreciating its softness as they sputtered to a stop at the ferry boarding entrance… Just as the ramps had lifted up and the ship moved away from shore.

Fitz looked at his watch: 12:01 A.M.

Oops.

"We missed it," he said, disappointedly.

"And it's midnight, we're already late…" Jemma said.

"We're going to be very late," he stated confidently. "Coulson's going to kill us."

"Frankly, I'm more concerned about May." The declaration sent them both into a mess of laughter as thunder cracked loudly in the sky.

Somewhere in the distance lightning illuminated up the sky, but neither of them noticed. They were too busy staring into each other's eyes, as though really, truly seeing their depth for the first time.

And then the initial raindrop fell, big and fat upon Fitz's curls. Within seconds, it was pouring, soaking their hair and their clothes. The cold liquid did something to sober them up, and for the infinite time that night Fitz felt more alive than he had in ages, as if awakening from a long sleep, and this time in the wet, cold night he noticed it with a startling clarity. He was in love with Jemma Simmons. It was swelling in his chest, pounding in his heart. In his head.

He couldn't help but notice how the droplets of rain clung to Jemma's long, dark lashes, or how the moon beams were glinting off her hair, stars reflecting in her eyes as some sense flooded her system.

She was staring into his eyes, and something broke inside her, fear and hesitancy melting away. She was in love with Leopold Fitz, and it took her all this time to finally admit it to herself. Here on this island, in the middle of well-she's-not-really-sure-where-they-are, in the torrential rain. She thought she could fly if she tried, because the whole situation was absurd, really. But she was loving every second of it.

Before she knew it, laughter was falling from her lips and Fitz decided it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. It was infectious and before he knew it, he was laughing too, mixing with the melodic, dulcet sound emerging from her mouth.

"Marry me," he blurted out before he could help it. Okay… so maybe the alcohol hadn't completely worn off, or maybe he was getting really caught up in how gorgeous she looked and how much he loved her lips, especially when they were talking about science or to him, or both, preferably. A rosy blush colored his cheeks as the silence grew wider. Nah, he was definitely sober with the kind of mortification he was feeling. He was never going to talk. Never again. Especially not to Simmons. That would be a disaster.

But suddenly, she broke into the widest grin he'd ever seen.

"You're serious?" she finally asked.

Fitz ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, well sort of, I mean… um, I've been trying to tell you how I feel for the longest time. I… I think you're the most wonderful person I've ever had the fortune of meeting. I'm so… so lucky to be able to spend time with you. I love the way you run labs, and I love the way argue with me, I love the way you finish my sentences and I love your voice and your hair and your smile, and how kind and smart you are. And… I love… I love you, Jems." He dropped his gaze, eyebrows furrowed in a startling nervousness. "If you don't want to, we can just, uh, forget this happened," he muttered, studying the growing puddles on the ground.

"Wait, no, Fitz, I mean—yes!" she said, tilting his chin upward with slim fingers. "Yes, I want to marry you. I'll do it!"

"Really?"

"Really. The stores never close around here, I saw a jewelry store a few blocks back—"

"We have time… yeah, we could do it."

"Yeah, let's go. We have…"

"…Fifty one minutes until the next ferry arrives," Fitz finished, glancing up from his watch.

"Wait, Leo," Jemma said, grabbing his hand as rain pattered around their feet, "I love you, too. I love you a lot. More than I've ever loved anyone or anything in my whole life."

Neither could recall who'd started it, but somewhere in the midst of the storm, as thunder roared in the inky sky, their lips met for the first time and everything was clear.

As it turned out, looking at rings spontaneously was more time consuming than they'd imagined and kissing was more interesting than paying attention to the time. Needless to say, they missed the next ferry, too.

….

"Jemma, it's past 2:30, you think Skye's still up?" Fitz said as they approached the plane. "Maybe she can let us in…"

"I'll text her," she said, slipping her phone from her pocket, realizing that she hadn't checked it all night as twenty three notifications appeared. After scrolling through them, she looked at Fitz. "Skye said she convinced May to leave the ramp down."

"Bless her," Fitz said, damp clothes clinging to his skin.

As they entered the Bus, he spoke in a hushed voice, "Okay, if we walk quietly, maybe no one will notice and we can just sneak back into our bunks…"

They entered the lounge, heads bowed as they whispered, oblivious to the very-awake team seated on the couch. "We're spies, Fitz," Coulson said from the other side of the room. "We're definitely going to notice."

The science twins snapped their heads upward to see Coulson, May and Skye sitting on the couches.

"You're late," May said.

Fitz gulped while he tried to think of something to say, but Simmons beat him to it. "Well, um… funny story you see—"

"There were some wine tastings and we missed the ferry twice, well three times actually-"

"Then one thing led to another and uh-"

"We sort of-"

"Got engaged," Simmons finished with a shrug.

No one had ever seen May look so surprised in her life. "Please tell me this is the alcohol talking."

"God, I hope not," Skye said as she sat up, a grin spreading across her face. _This_ was a thousand times better than she'd ever imagined.

"No!" Simmons said as she held up her hand, displaying a ring.

"Holy crap, this is awesome." Skye jumped from the couch, clad in pajamas as she flung her arms around both scientists. Coulson remained frozen on the couch, looking terrified. May was stunned speechless, as well.

Bobbi walked in, immediately taking in the sight and catching eyes with Simmons. If Bobbi was surprised, she didn't show it, just smiled at the scientist and flashed her a thumbs up, then shared a quick conspiratorial look with Skye. The hacker was beaming.

Hunter entered a moment later, entirely oblivious to the scene working itself out in front of them. He peered into the large bag FitzSimmons had dropped on the floor, and broke the atmosphere, prompting an eye roll from Bobbi. "Why do you have such a huge book?" He looked over at them, wrinkling his nose as a small pool of water gathered where the pair was standing. "And why are you soaked?"

The scientists looked over. "Oh, that…"

" _That's_ another story."


End file.
